


A hot take

by JCTMUPJ



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ante appears for a moment there too, Crack Treated Seriously, Filming, First Time Blow Jobs, Lovren thinks he's straight, Luka is a sweetheart, M/M, Tag urself im vida, This is dumb dont look at me, Vrsaljko knows whats up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 06:54:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15455766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JCTMUPJ/pseuds/JCTMUPJ
Summary: It was all Vida's fault, he was an idiot for going through with it, but he needed all the help he could get.





	A hot take

**Author's Note:**

> Look i said i'd do it so here it is.  
> It's utterly self-indulgent and ridiculously corny crack treated seriously   
> Enjoy

Dejan has had a rough week. He’s had a rough _year_. Balancing the college workload and his football team practices and games has taken a toll on him. On top of that, his social life had been blooming and that meant more partying, more people to get to know and meet, and more chicks to beat off with a stick. The female population of their town was constantly throwing itself at him, complimenting his looks, his skill, his body and even his goddamn voice. He had been flattered at first. But as the things progressed, as he became more popular and better at football, it became unbearable.

He kicks his feet up onto the coffee table, not at all surprised to find Vida on his couch past two a.m. on a Thursday. The blonde spares him a look before continuing his game of FIFA 18 on the Playstation. He watches the other play for a bit in silence, the only sound in the room being his heaving sighs that were trying to attract Vida’s attention and the great game itself.

After losing the match Vida puts his controller down and turns to look at him, barely-there eyebrows drawn.

“What the fuck happened to _you?”_

“Oh, thanks for noticing I’m here. I got mobbed by the cheerleading squad. They took my shirt, man, that’s sad.” He runs a hand through his disheveled hair with another great sigh.

Vida laughs, lips stretching into a shit-eating grin. “What did they want this time?”

“An appearance at their charity thing next week. I mean, I’ll do it but you don’t have to physically drag me there.” He frowns down at his jeans that have been ripped even further because someone tried to cling to him. “How come Luka never gets this type of shit from anyone, he’s the damn captain of the team?!”

“Ah, but you see, Luka is gay as fuck and has a boyfriend.” Vida points out and makes himself comfortable with his legs thrown over Dejan’s lap.

He nods sagely, thinking about Domagoj’s words briefly before replying. “That’s it then, that’s what I have to do.”

Vida laughs jovially, “What, get a boyfriend? Bro… I don’t know how to break this to you but.”

“No, idiot, not that!” He slams a hand down onto Vida’s leg and the other yelps. “I have to convince them I’m gay! That way, the ladies will leave me alone and I can finish this year in peace.”

“And how, pray tell, are you going to do that? With the amount of girls you’ve fucked around with, it’s gonna be hard to believe you’ve suddenly had a change of heart.” Vida snorts and settles back down, presumably for a nap.

“I’ll have to show them then.” He clenches his fist; his tired brain thinks this is a beautiful idea.

“Please, like you’d stand another guy being anywhere near your dick!” Vida cackles like a madman, body shaking at the thought. He kind of wants to punch him in the face.

Lovren pouts, eyebrows furrowing. “No, hear me out. I get someone to, like, I don’t know, suck my dick or something and I take pictures. We leak them anonymously to Instagram or Twitter or some shit and the rumors spread like wildfire.”

“That might get your ass beat.” Vida points out.

He scoffs, “Have you seen these guns?” He brings his arms up, flexing his impressive biceps. “Plus, they’d never hurt someone on the team, we’re too important to the college for that.”

“True. So,” Vida blinks one eye open, “Who’s it gonna be?”

“Who’s gonna be what?” He tilts his head to the side.

“Who’s gonna be sucking your dick, dude?” Vida kicks out with his leg and Dejan nearly gets a foot to the face.

“I don’t know, whoever I can find in the club, I guess.” He shrugs, how hard could it be?

Vida gives one final snort of amusement before signing out with the words “Good luck, man.”

* * *

 

 It turns out that finding someone willing to suck his dick is pretty damn difficult.

He strikes out the first three times he tries but that might be because he’s going to his usual club where everyone already knows him and his preferences. So for the fourth time he tries going to a more low-key place, something with an alternative tinge to it. The indie music made him cringe and drink too much but he dealt with it for the sake of his semester ending successfully. He’d almost managed hit on a couple of guys but as soon as he’d opened his mouth to speak to them they turned around and left. He didn’t get it. He wasn’t unattractive, he wasn’t an idiot and he was pretty damn good at flirting. So where did he go wrong?

“The problem is that you’re very violently heterosexual. At least you look like it.” Luka informs him when he begs for clues three days after the last failed attempt.

“That makes absolutely no sense.” He complains loudly, exasperated and tired. They’re hiding out in one of the hipster cafés because he kept getting numbers thrown at him wherever else they went. This was the safest option; plus, Rebić worked at the counter so they got a discount. The younger wasn’t technically supposed to do that but the owner was super chill and Rebić was cute so he got away with a lot of things like that.

“No, it totally does. Judging by what you told me, it isn’t in the looks. Your whole attitude screams straight. The moment you open your mouth you’re the broest of them all.” Luka tips his mug towards him and then takes a sip.

He whines. “We’re not that different!” He motions to himself and then to Luka and the older shakes his head, dirty blonde locks swishing. He takes the elder’s look in – the eyes that look perpetually sad even when he’s smiling due to the downturned eyebrows, the longer hair that gets in his face during practice and the small stature that fits into his boyfriend’s arms perfectly. Okay, maybe they are different. Luka is also soft spoken when he needs to be and commanding on the field like it’s his duty. Dejan can be abrasive and aggressive unnecessarily and, now that he thinks about it, he’d never seen Luka do that.

“I can see your mind working and no, I’m not implying you’re dumb and aggressive. It’s just the way you flirt is supposed to make all the ladies swoon and shit but most guys aren’t into that. And maybe you can flaunt your muscles and attract attention but for your words, you gotta be more careful.” Luka rambles on and Dejan really believes what he’s saying it’s just that it doesn’t make any sense.

“Okay…” He draws out the word slowly and Luka huffs, eyes turning even sadder after an eye-roll.

“You come off as a classic douchebag to the girls and for some reason they like that. But also, at the same time, you look like you’d beat any guy that comes within five feet of you. _I_ know it’s not true, but strangers in the club don’t know that.” Luka tries a different approach.

“So what are you suggesting I do?” He swirls the coffee around the mug sullenly. He is _not_ a douchebag. Luka was being unnecessarily mean. He could definitely be gay if he wanted to.

Luka leans back and drums his fingers onto the table, face scrunched up in thought. “I think your safest bet is to get someone you know well to do it. It’s gonna either be incredibly awkward or they’ll be chill with it. It all depends on who you ask.”

His mouth pops open. “No, absolutely not. That’s mortifying!” He splutters when Luka laughs at him.

“Come on, you’re not gonna get hit on unless you pay a dude to do it. So, like, ask a friend. Tell him what’s going on and I’m sure he’ll help you out.” Luka smiles reassuringly, eyes still somehow sad and it almost fascinates him to the point where he almost misses what Luka says next. “I suggest a close friend, maybe even a _best friend_.”

He certainly doesn’t like how Luka pronounced that, the intonation was all wrong. And he doesn’t like how his mind immediately supplies him with an image of his very best friend, Šime. He’s sure he’s making some sort of grimace and judging by Luka’s face it’s got to be a good one.

“You don’t have to do it but… it’s your best option.” Luka reassures him, a reluctant smile crossing his face.

And it is, now that he thinks about it. He’d rather have someone who’s already seen his dick come close to it than some random dude in a shady club in a grimy bathroom. It might be awkward but it’s the best option he’s got at the moment.

* * *

 

“I need you to suck my dick.” He crosses his arms over his chest and sidesteps Vrsaljko who had just tripped on air upon hearing his request. Thankfully, they’re in his apartment so Šime ends up on the couch rather than the dirty concrete that could have welcomed him.

Šime had been incredibly busy for the past week and Dejan had missed hanging out with him so it was quite the feat getting him to separate from the papers that were due in a couple of days and get him into his flat. He was sad he had to ruin it with this whole conversation but it’s better to get it out there in the open than let it stew. Šime really was the only option when he got down to it. There was never really any other option. Maybe his roommate and close friend, Ivan, would have done it if he asked nicely – or he would have punched him in the face. Either way, Šime was the safer option because at least he knew the younger would never hit him – seriously, at least.

“Ha – ha, Dejo, real fucking funny.” Šime flips over the couch and comes to sit on it right-side up. The younger turns the TV on and starts paying attention to the evening news.

He can’t have that; he can’t have the pause in this conversation because he’ll lose all courage. He takes the remote and turns the TV on. Šime turns to look at him with wide, betrayed eyes.

“I’m serious.” He deadpans, trying to stop himself from begging for help.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Šime startles at the look in his eyes and he knows there’s intensity there that scares the younger because he _is_ dead serious about this.

“Look,” He relents, voice gentler, and he sits down onto the couch next to the other defender. “I can’t continue like this. The girls, they just won’t leave me alone. I can’t leave my flat without getting mobbed. I need to do something to make myself less desirable for them. And that something is coming out as gay. And no, before you ask, it wouldn’t work if I just said it. I’ve slept with a lot of them already so I doubt that they’d believe me.” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, tries to avoid the judgy look Šime is sending his way.

“I need proof of this so Domo and I-” He ignores the little _‘of course, who else?’_ that comes from Šime at the mention of the other. “Came up with the idea to leak blow-job pics on the internet. There’s no better way to spread rumors these days. And before you ask, I tried going to a club but failed. I asked Luka why and he said that I’m, quote-unquote, _violently heterosexual._ ” He air-quotes with distaste, still a little offended.

“And you just _had_ to ask _me_ why?” Šime’s eyes are wider than usual; he looks distressed but also intrigued in a way.

“Because you’re my best friend.” He says simply.

“Exactly! I’m not about to suck your dick!” Šime flails around, arms waving around in distress.

He drops down to the ground, kneeling in front of Šime, ready to beg for a damn blow-job out of all the things. “Please, you’re the only one I trust to come near my dick. You’re my only hope.”

“I don’t think it’s gonna work.” Šime concludes, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, face very close to Dejan’s.

“Why not?” He whines, hands coming up to clutch at the younger’s wrists.

Šime shakes his head. “Any straight guy that’s suave and edgy enough can get another dude to blow him. It doesn’t have to mean anything. Now, _giving_ a blow-job is something else. No guy that prefers pussy would willingly suck dick. So that’s what you gotta do.” The younger says, voice oddly shaky but determined at the same time.

“ _Shit._ ” Shit, they hadn’t thought about it like that. He hadn’t taken into account the fact that it could possibly mean nothing about him. Shit, he needs to suck Šime’s dick instead.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, bro, but there goes your plan.” Šime shakes their hands a little and he grips them further to steady himself.

“No, no. No. Look, no.” He mumbles to himself more than to his best friend. “No, you gotta – I’ll suck your dick. I’ll give _you_ the blow-job and you gotta tape it or something.” He looks up and Šime looks ready to cry.

“Are you – are you taking the piss right now? You are _not_ willing to suck dick no matter the circumstances.” Šime laughs, definitely uneasy with the topic at hand.

“No, I am, I will. I need this to happen I need my peace back. I don’t care what they say – I lost three shirts to them this week. I’m getting stalked, Šime, please.” He releases the younger’s hands and clasps his owns in a praying motion.

Šime’s face grows serious like he’s actually considering it, and Dejan hopes to god he is. He needs this and the fact that he’s willing to go through with it should show the younger how serious this situation is.

“You’d really put my dick in your mouth?” The younger’s voice is a little more stable now, like he’s finally accepted that this is going to happen.

“Yes.” He says firmly. How bad could it be? It’s just a – a dick. He has one, he’s seen plenty in porn, he’s seen plenty in the locker room. He can definitely put it in his mouth. Yeah. Okay, maybe with a little difficulty but it’s just Šime. It’s his best friend – he’s not gay but – he’d probably be able to do it.

Šime leans back, hands dropping down to the couch to fist at the blanket there. He gulps and nods to himself while Dejan observes his face closely. “Okay. I’ll – I’ll let you suck my dick. I’m not happy about it, but I’ll help you because you’re my best b-bro.”

“Oh thank god.” His shoulders slump, smile gracing his features but he’s low-key nervous about it. “How should we do this?”

“Don’t ask me! You’re the one that needs help!” Šime bristles and runs a hand through his short, curly locks.

“Okay, okay. Uh, get out your phone and your dick.” He shuffles closer on his knees and ignores the younger’s indignant noise of protest.

“I can’t believe the shit I do for you.” Šime mutters and takes his keys and phone out of his shorts’ pockets. Then, the younger proceeds to pull down his shorts, leaving him only in boxers.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “If you don’t cooperate this won’t work.”

“Well, what do you want me to do!?” Šime whines out, cheeks red and eyes darting around the room.

“I don’t know?! Get hard for one!” His hand darts forward to pinch at the younger’s thigh. The leg twitches and Šime swats at his head mechanically.

“How am I supposed to do that?! This is fucking weird and giving me performance anxiety.” The younger complains, palm coming down to defend his crotch.

“I don’t know, man, imagine some girl or something. Whoever was the last one to give you a blow-job except worse because I’ve never done this before oh god.” His forehead connects with Šime’s knee and his heartbeat speeds up.

“Hey, uh, I’m – ugh, shit. Look, just do what you like getting done to you I guess???” Šime’s voice goes a little high-pitched near the end. And he can’t blame him, it’s awkward as fuck.

“Fuck, okay, fuck. Let’s do this.” He bites at his lip and wets it with his tongue. One hand gingerly moves up the younger’s thigh and Šime tenses under his touch. He ghosts his fingers over the younger’s crotch where he can clearly see the outline of the dick he’s supposed to suck.

“I’ll – uh – wait till you get going to start the video, yeah?” Šime squirms under the unfamiliar touch.

“Close your eyes and imagine someone else, we need to get this going before I chicken out and come to terms with being stalked constantly for the rest of my life.” He rushes out and the younger follows his orders, eyes snapping shut firmly. And it’s not gonna work, he thinks, his hands are too big – too rough, man paws.

He bites his tongue and grips the waistband of the younger’s boxers; ends up being mildly surprised when Šime willingly lifts his hips to ease their descent. And okay, that is a penis. Dejan reels back a little. It’s a penis. He shouldn’t be freaked out. It’s a regular penis, a little larger up close than in the locker room. He runs a finger down the length gently and Šime hisses. His other hand grips Šime’s thigh firmly.

It’s too quiet in the room, he’s too aware of what he’s about to do. He reaches over and turns on the TV. Šime jumps at the sudden noise but doesn’t move too much. He tentatively lifts the other’s soft member and gives it a stroke. He lets it drop like he’s been burned.

“I can’t do this.” He sits back onto his ass heavily and Šime’s eyes open to cut to him with an intense glare.

“What the fuck man? You can’t just tell me to get my dick out and then quit!” Vrsaljko flicks his forehead, an affronted look on his face.

“I can’t do it! It’s – it’s a dick! You’re not hard!” He looks up, makes the mistake of looking into Šime’s wide, offended eyes. The two brown orbs look watery and unfocused and just real fucking sad. He feels horrible for putting Šime on the spot like this.

“Look just, let me get it up, okay? Look away,” Šime runs a hand through his hair again in a frustrated manner.

He nods and turns to the side, taking his shirt off because he’s too hot due to the embarrassment of it all. There’s a nasty kink in his back so he twists, muscles stretching and flexing and he hears the younger take in a startled breath. He freezes, itching to look, itching to see the brunette gripping himself right there not even half a meter away. He’s glad he took off his shirt because suddenly he’s feeling even hotter under the collar. And this is all really weird; very much not bro-like behavior. He shouldn’t be wanting to turn around and see Vrsaljko jerking himself off, tattooed biceps flexing. It’s stronger than him – this sudden urge to just _look._ His muscles strain under the effort of staying turned away, hands gripping his sweats firmly to keep a hold on himself. It’s ridiculous; they’re too old to be doing things like this. _He’s_ too old for sudden sexual epiphanies. But the urge is so much stronger than his hands are and he turns around in a split-second decision.  

He’s faced with Šime’s wide eyes again, this time the pupil in them is dilated and Šime is fixated firmly on him. The younger’s got a wide palm wrapped around his dick, tip red and swollen and Dejan’s mouth runs dry.

“Didn’t tell you to turn around.” Šime gets out into the news-filled air of the room.

“You were taking too long.” He responds like it’s the most normal conversation they’re having, something discussed on a daily basis, but his gaze never strays away from flitting between the younger’s eyes and dick. Then, his eyes stay on the other’s member as the sound becomes somewhat slick. It seems as though Šime notices the added lubrication of pre-come because he stops stroking and just grips himself.

He tries to collect some spit into his mouth as he clears his throat. “Get the camera.”

Šime scrambles his free hand along the couch cushion to find the phone and he lifts it up after a few seconds of searching. Neither of them speak as Dejan lifts to his knees and starts leaning in. He replaces the younger’s hand with his own and strokes along the length gently. It’s weird having someone else’s dick in hand, the angle is all wrong and the shape is different but the overall feeling of it in his hand isn’t bad.  

He gets a little scared when it twitches after he thumbs at the head but he continues with the motion, not daring to utter a word. He takes his time exploring, wrapping his hand around it and running his fingers over the veins. It’s not as bad as he thought but he doesn’t necessarily want to put it in his mouth. And yet, he has to. He grips a little firmer and Šime moans. It makes _his_ cheeks heat because _he did that._ It’s a strange sense of pride that washes over him as he lifts his gaze and sees the younger staring at him with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. They’re both a little sweaty now as well, it’s too warm in their little bubble of whatever-the-fuck this is. It’s the sound of the phone recording that finally spurs him into action.

He grins up at the phone, a little shaky and fake but also flirty and cute. He sees Šime smile at him and it makes him feel better. It’s like with a single click the both of them have adapted to the rolls they need for the situation.

“Gonna start, yeah?” Šime’s voice is a little gruffer and a little distant to try and preserve anonymity like people won’t recognize whose legs those are.

“Impatient, huh?” He teases, slicking his lips with a hearty lick. “Sit still.” He orders and Šime nods, the hand holding the phone is a little shaky but they’re good. It’s good, the balls rolling.

He braves it and starts by licking a stripe up the other’s dick. It tastes like skin and it’s salty due to the pre-come which he tries not to think about too hard. He places kisses along the length and finishes by wrapping his mouth around the head, careful with the teeth. Šime moans and his thighs twitch under Dejan’s hands. That sense of pride comes back again as the younger’s hips wiggle around.

He’s not expecting to get into it, really, it’s gross in retrospect but a natural occurrence. But the more time he spends doing it, the more it makes him feel things that he wasn’t expecting. Šime turns out to be very sensitive and the more he licks and sucks at the head and under it the louder the younger gets. He gets brave enough to take some of the length into his mouth and Šime curses at the sight.

“Shit, Dejo, you look good like that.” The younger thrusts up minutely and he’s forced to take more of the length. He hollows his cheeks and Šime moans again, low and raspy and he’s sort of mortified to find himself growing hard at the sound. He mimics the sound and his hand, as if acting on its own, moves down so he can stroke himself to what they’re doing.

“Yeah? You’re good at this.” Šime comments and his free hand threads through his short hair, nails scraping along the scalp.

He pulls back, sucking in the saliva and wiping his chin. “Thought I’d be bad?” He teases, cheekily eyeing the camera and through it Šime himself. “I’m good at everything.”

Šime snorts, “Yeah, well, continue then. Don’t let me stop you.”

And okay, it’s going to his head a little. Just seeing Šime disheveled and blushing like that, at his mercy, at the mercy of _his_ mouth. It’s – yeah. Maybe Šime was right, no completely straight guy would willingly suck dick – maybe he isn’t completely straight then.

He returns to his task, moaning as he swallows down, sucking as he goes up. He doesn’t attempt to go further than he can, focuses on the head instead and Šime positively mewls at the attention there. The noises coming from his mouth are lewd and sloppy, his cheeks are on fire but Šime isn’t better off. The younger’s blush descends past the v of his shirt and his chest is glistening where he can see it, the thin material clinging to his skin. He goes down even more and Šime’s mouth pops open and stays open, words spilling out.

“Yeah, just like that. Take it deeper, baby. God, your mouth.” Šime whimpers and thrusts up minutely.

He pushes the younger’s hips back down so he doesn’t gag on the length in his mouth and slurps coming back up. “Yeah? You like it that much, huh?” He teases right back, not really thinking about the fact that this is his very best friend he’s blowing.

“ _Yes,”_ Šime hisses and then the hand that was busy with his hair moves down to the side of his face, a thumb slipping inside his mouth and he sucks at it like it’s instinctual. The longer they’re at it the more natural it feels. He grips the younger’s wrist and pulls the thumb out.

“While I don’t mind, try and control yourself, yeah? I _do_ want to finish you off with my mouth instead of having you creaming your pants from pseudo-fellatio.” He grins again as Šime whines in embarrassment, a choked sound wheezing from his throat. He takes Šime’s surprised pause to kiss up his thighs. He gets this ridiculous idea to press a hickey there so he does. He attaches his mouth just next to where the younger’s happy trail begins. His teeth scrape against smooth skin, satisfied with how the abdominals constrict under his ministrations.

Despite what he said, he ends up gripping the younger with his hand instead. He tightens his grip minutely and allows Šime to thrust up into the circle of his fingers. Šime whines loudly, muscles twitching as the orgasm washes over him. The spunk spills over his hands and some of it gets on his chin and up Šime’s abs.

“Liar.” Šime grunts after a few seconds.

“Oh?” He grins and, in an uncharacteristically bold move, brings his hand to his face and licks it clean.

“Jesus.” Šime’s head thumps back against the backrest of the couch as his hands fumble with the phone to turn it off.

He ignores his own aching need and sits back down. He’s panting a little and he looks at Šime’s heaving chest. He can’t help but laugh, a little hysteric but the younger soon joins him. They laugh like that for a couple of minutes before he coughs loudly and then frowns, the taste of jizz in his mouth unpleasant.

“Ugh, I gotta wash my teeth.” He stands up, still hard but adamant to ignore it until he’s safely in the bathroom.

“Dude, you got a little problem there.” Šime points at the very obvious tent in his pants.

“I can assure you, it’s not little.” He winks and starts walking towards the bathroom. Šime stops him with a hand on his wrist, thumb rubbing almost absentmindedly along the skin there.

“We’re – we’re all good, yeah?” Šime looks uncharacteristically nervous and he gulps.

“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t we be?” He puts his foot in his mouth because Šime is looking at him like he’s the stupidest person in the world. He grunts, a smile playing on his throbbing lips, “Shut up.” He grips Šime’s forearm and squeezes to reassure him further before he actually leaves.

He shuts the door and leans back against it, grips himself and settles on taking a cold shower instead. His head’s a mess now that he has time and wit to process what they’ve just done. He’s a little surprised to find himself thinking about maybe doing it again. But that’s a problem for another day. He grabs a change of clothes once he’s done showering and dresses in his room instead of walking out there shirtless like he usually would. He fetches them a couple of beers and settles down next to Šime.

“You took a while so I took the liberty of DMing the video anonymously on twitter to one of the cheerleading squad’s head cheerleaders. It should be out there in about a couple of minutes.” Šime says as he accepts the beer and turns on the TV. He doesn’t appear to be acting any different but something’s off in his tone.

Dejan is worried and suddenly regretting his plan in the first place. It was stupid; of course they wouldn’t get out of this unbothered. And having the video out there might be very bad for him in retrospect. Especially if he considers football as a professional career after college. Whatever, he’s probably not the first or last guy out there to be, uh – bisexual? Is that what he is now? Water under the bridge now, anyway. Šime did what they agreed on and now he’s left to stew in the aftermath. But – it’s okay, things are going to be back to normal. He’s going to be left alone. It’s – it’s fine. He’s fine. Except when Šime stretches over his lap like he did so many times before it feels a little different. But that’s okay too.                                       

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on [twitter](https://twitter.com/MarionetteFtHJM)  
> Goooo croatia nt!


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